1. Dirty Little Secrets 5: Evaporating Inhibitions


    Date: 9/22/2015, Categories: Wife Lovers, Author: PervyStoryteller, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    off at work. Everything has to be very hush hush. It’s imperative. “With pleasure!” Mark has written. I smile to myself and drive down to the station car park to await him. I back into a space right at the end of the car park. That way I can survey the surroundings and see Mark when he comes striding towards me, looking so handsome in his suit and tie. He gets in the passenger seat, smiling at me. “Good afternoon, Catherine.” “Good afternoon, Mark. I’m glad you liked the picture.” “You know I did,” he says. “But we need to be more careful.” I tremble inside. “What do you mean?” “I had someone behind me when I brought it up,” he says. “I didn’t know, but…” I smile. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, trying to sound as if I don’t mean it, while simultaneously experiencing an illicit thrill. “No-one can tell it was me, can they?” “No,” Mark says. “But still…” “Who was it?” “What?” “Who saw?” “Oh, some churchy bitch from upstairs who thinks she’s better than us because she works with the knobs,” he says. I can’t help but giggle at that. “Nobody else?” I say. “No,” says Mark. He doesn’t know, and I’m not going to tell him, that I was susceptible to his peeping in the first place because of a little fantasy I had about my husband showing my videos to his colleagues. Part of me wishes someone else, a man, had seen, part of me understands Mark’s point about discretion, even though nobody’s going to recognize me from just seeing my disembodied genitalia. I’m so conflicted I hardly know ...
    which way to turn. Nobody must see the woman I am in private, yet being seen, the very thought of being seen, excites me more than I can say. “She said it was disgusting,” Mark volunteers after a little pause. “And what did you think?” I ask. While I’ve been waiting for him, I’ve pulled my dress up, so that there can be no doubt I’m wearing stockings. Now he places a firm hand on stocking-top, looks into my eyes and says, “You know what I think, Catherine.” The lad’s coming on a treat. I know he’s not had much experience. Not because he’s said so, but because a woman can sense these things. Already I can sense a growing confidence that I find enormously attractive. “So you want to fill me,” I say. “Right up,” he replies. His hand pushes the dress further up. His fingers grip naked thigh. I respond instantly, worrying that there’ll soon be a little puddle in the driver’s seat that’s impossible to eradicate. “Is there anything else you want to do?” So far he’s been very reticent when asked this, but now he says, “I want you to sit on my face.” This isn’t what I expected, but I’m not going to complain. “I want to taste you and smell you,” Mark elaborates. That settles it. Hearing him say it makes me want to have him right then and there, in the car in the car park. But it’s too dangerous. We mustn’t. I mustn’t risk being caught with Mark by anyone who knows who I am. For now, Mark’s hand is working its way slowly upwards. How can I resist? How can I deny him? I part my legs as well ...